Inevitable Harry
by Generic Gen
Summary: Seventeen year old Harry Potter never thought it would come to this. To the point where he was willing to kill, to take blood, to rip apart someone’s flesh, to protect his loved ones, complete strangers, even his enemies, and maybe, just a little bit...


*I'm such an evil person! WAAAA!*  
  
Nick: yes, you are.  
  
*WHY?!?!?!?!?!! WHY DID I HAVE TO KILL THEM OFF!!!!!!!*  
  
Alexa: Because you're evil.  
  
*WAAA!!!*.  
  
Nick: Disclaimer: hpdigigal doesn't own Harry Potter, but does own anything in this story that you're not familiar with: THE PLOT...OOOOH!  
  
*This is a horror fic, everybody. So if you're in a happy mood, get your butt outta here! In this ic, almost all of our beloved characters face immense pain. And, just so everyone knows, the ones whom I kill off or hurt or turn insane or turn evil or whatever are my favorites! I LOVE THE HARRY POTTER CHARACTERS! I LOVE THEM! YA HEAR ME! SO IF YA DARE THINK THAT I HATE A SINGLE ONE OF THEM, EVEN SNAPE, THEN I'LL TRACK YA DOWN!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!*  
  
Alexa: Heed her word.  
  
Harry clasped onto his wand tightly, his fist clenching tighter and tighter, his nails digging deeper and deeper into his skin, causing it to bleed. But he didn't care. His enemy was out there, and he had to get rid of him, not only for him, but for the people he cared about, the ones he loved, even the ones he hated, and the ones he didn't know existed. And, perhaps, just a little bit, for revenge.  
  
Seventeen year old Harry Potter never thought it would come to this. To the point where he was willing to kill, to take blood, to rip apart someone's flesh, to save the entire world, wizards and Muggles alike.  
  
But, then again, he never thought that he would be a famous wizard, who was the only person to face Voldemort and come out alive, and not only that, but cause the Dark wizard to lose much of his powers.  
  
His life was just too unpredictable, at least, for him.  
  
Since his fourth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Voldemort, also known as Tom Riddle, better known as You-Know-Who, or He- Who-Must-Not-Be-Named, or the Dark Lord, or Master, if you were a Death Eater, had been rapidly gaining control over the world. Traitorous Death Eaters had immediately jumped back to him, seeking mercy for abandoning him. Some wanted power, others were afraid, just as the time years before Harry's birth.  
  
'Guess history enjoys repeating itself', he thought silently, penetrating green eyes scanning the area.  
  
He was in Godric's Hollow. Back where it all began.  
  
He was in a room he only saw in dreams. A room which held sadness and despair. The room where his mother had lost her life.  
  
Indeed, history was having a jolly time repeating itself to Harry.  
  
Harry's ears flinched as he heard a shuffling noise and several peals of sinister laughter.  
  
He nearly paled, but stopped himself, willing himself to not show his fear. He couldn't. He had to be strong. He had to stand proudly, just like his father had...  
  
Harry saw the doorknob creak open, slowly. He was having a fun time, slowly bringing the fear back into him.  
  
But he wasn't going to let it show.  
  
This was the event he had spent three long and painful years practicing for. He could not fail.  
  
The door immediately burst open, and out came the tall, long figure of Tom Riddle.  
  
Harry glared at the figure. His enemy. The one who had made his life miserable.  
  
"Ah, Harry Potter", the voice slithered out sleekly. "I see you have chosen a masterpiece of a room to hide in. Ah yes", he said, rubbing his hands together and looking around, "This brings back memories, now doesn't it?".  
  
Harry lifted up his wand, beads of sweat forming on the back of his neck. Good thing his stubborn hair covered it.  
  
Voldemort looked at Harry strongly. "I guess you are here to meet your deathbed?".  
  
"Wrong, Voldemort", Harry sneered, "I'm here to kill you".  
  
"I suppose you are", he smirked.  
  
"As am I!", Voldemort yelled, whipping out his wand, pointing it level with Harry's chest.  
  
"Time to duel, Potter", he spat.  
  
"First", he said imploringly, "we must show our respect and bow. Do you not remember the ritual we had to got through to make you do this?".  
  
"Yes, I do", Harry glared, "And I intend on NOT obeying".  
  
"Imperio!", Voldemort cried.  
  
That floaty sense of peace and comfort filled Harry's senses....  
  
Bow, come on, just bow...  
  
'No, I think I'd rather keep my back straight, thank you'.  
  
You can do it, Harry, bow...bow...  
  
'Nope'.  
  
Bow, Harry, what's wrong, you can do a little bow, can't you?  
  
'I won't, thanks'.  
  
Bow, Harry, just do it, bow.  
  
'I've faced you before, Voldemort. You won't make me do it'.  
  
You know you want to, Harry.  
  
'That's funny, isn't it? You're saying I want to bow, but the truth is, that's the furthest thing from my mind'.  
  
I see you've learned to completely take control, eh?  
  
'I suppose you have'.  
  
"Enough!", Voldemort cried, lifting the spell. "This process in the dueling is not necessary".  
  
Harry smirked.  
  
"Time to duel, Voldemort", he said quietly.  
  
Voldemort grinned.  
  
"Crucio!", he cried, a green flash of light directing straight into Harry's mind and soul.  
  
His eyes were rolling around in his head, his knees were twisting backwards...the pain...was so agonizing...  
  
But he had dealt with it in fourth year...and fifth year...and sixth year... and had come out of it alive. Barely.  
  
Suddenly, peacefully, the spell lifted off him. The pain still was there, but at least it wasn't advancing.  
  
"Now my turn, Voldemort. Elimipowrusa!", Harry cried, a red streak embedding from his wand, directly into Voldemort's chest.  
  
Harry was panting heavily. This had been the first time ever he had used the de-powering spell on a human. 'No, no', he thought to himself, 'Not a human'.  
  
"Aargh! You-will-not-get-away-with-this!", Voldemort yelled, waving his wand furiously.  
  
He was about to think about the irony of his opponent's inhumaneness, when he felt Voldemort being lifted from the power cast into the wand.  
  
Harry glared at him. He knew that Voldemort enjoyed torturing his enemies first, then he'd be killed.  
  
Unless he killed Voldemort first.  
  
His wand had increased rapidly in power through-out the usage, but even his wand wouldn't able to defeat the power Voldemort had inside him, the power that had been gaining rapidly, the power he got started off from Harry's blood...  
  
Harry swallowed.  
  
He was the reason that Voldemort was alive again. His fault. All his fault...  
  
He shook his head rapidly. He couldn't let those thoughts encircle his brain. After all, if it weren't for him, Voldemort wouldn't have needed to regain power again...to become more powerful and stronger than ever before.  
  
Harry narrowed his eyes. No, it wasn't because of him. It was his mother. If it hadn't been for Lily Potter, than Voldemort would've still been alive, Harry dead...  
  
And he had killed her. And his father.  
  
But not only them.  
  
He had Cedric Diggory.  
  
He took the life of Bertha Jorkins.  
  
Slew away the soul of that old man in Harry's dream.  
  
He had destroyed Neville Longbottom, someone who had suffered a worse fate than Harry, regarding his parents.  
  
And, Harry thought, swallowing hard, the life of Cho Chang, mutilating her.  
  
Harry had been a witness of that.  
  
He had grabbed away the lives of so many more.  
  
Harry clenched his fist tightly.  
  
Sirius Black had become a Death Eater, under the Imperious Curse.  
  
Lavender Brown, who was turned insane, through the Cruciatus Curse.  
  
Harry bit his lip hard.  
  
And Ron Weasely, his best friend, was hanged five days ago. Luscious wanted to kill him using magic, but all of the Death Eaters agreed that it would be much more painful if he was hanged the old-fashioned way. He couldn't forget the blank, expressionless look Ron had when the rope clung around his neck. Five seconds later, he was gone.  
  
He bit harder, and tasted his own blood.  
  
Percy Weasely was gone, sent into another universe, banished, banished by Voldemort, into a world of dementors and hideous pain. Snape had received notice that Percy was insane, stuck inside his own mind, gone...  
  
Harry couldn't take it, the anger was threatening to burst out of him.  
  
Fleur Delacour, Harry's brief friend, was given a curse, replacing her enchanting beauty with the ugly, gray, rotting flesh of a dementor. Not only that, but she had lost her mind and soul...to a dementor. She was feeding on hopeless thoughts, that was her way of living now...Not that she really existed, anyway...  
  
Harry was almost crying now; but he had to stay strong, for Dumbledore...for himself...  
  
Voldemort...Voldemort...had endued in a fierce duel between Dumbledore.  
  
Dumbledore was old, around perhaps 150 years old.  
  
He had much power...but Voldemort had somehow transferred some of Dumbledore's power into his own wand...and then...in the end, he fell...  
  
Harry was there, when he saw it.  
  
Dumbledore didn't have the usual twinkle in the eye. His face was gaunt and hollow. Though Fawkes, his faithful companion was by his side, crying, the effort was in vain. "Fawkes...thank you... for everything...protect Harry..." And to Harry he said, "Harry...promise me...promise that you will...put an end to...Voldemort...".  
  
Harry had been crying furiously then, clenching his fists tightly. But Dumbledore simply gave him a weak smile, and the old glint in his eye reappeared.  
  
"Well, Harry, I'm off. After all, death is but the next great adventure...Goodbye, Harry".  
  
And that was when he lost his soul, Voldemort laughing in the background.  
  
This was part protecting the world, but it was also revenge.  
  
Revenge against the most powerful wizard alive.  
  
Even if it meant losing his own life.  
  
Voldemort rose up, menacing glint in his eye. "Ready, Harry? No? Too bad", he laughed.  
  
"Malictio!".  
  
Harry let go of his wand. "AAAAH!", he yelled, as he saw his own skin twist and mold...rot and bubble up...  
  
Relax, Harry. It's just an illusion...Dumbledore told you, remember?  
  
But the grossness of it all made him sick.  
  
Harry bent down.  
  
Then he swallowed.  
  
No, he thought to himself, I must show I'm strong.  
  
But as he thought this, he clasped his chest. His nail were darkening, turning a mottly greenish-gray. Harry closed his eyes.  
  
He heard Voldemort laughing in the background, and opened his eyes.  
  
No, he thought to himself, he WILL NOT win.  
  
He stood up, picked up his wand, and wiled himself to take over the spell.  
  
C'mon Harry, do it...Reverse the spell, Harry...you have to do it...think of Sirius, think of Dumbledore.  
  
And slowly, amazingly, green light erupted from Harry, blinding his and his opponent's eyes, softening the gruesomeness on his skin. The green light, the light bulging with cruelness, shot straight towards Voldemort.  
  
"AAARGH!", Voldemort screamed, watching his own skin twisting and turning, glooping and glopping as though it were alive and angry.  
  
Harry shuddered and shut his eyes. He put his hands to his ears, trying to block out the screaming, screaming that was not only Voldemort's, but his.  
  
"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!".  
  
"Stand aside, you silly girl...stand aside...now".  
  
"Not Harry, please no, take me, take me, kill me instead!".  
  
"Not Harry! Please....have mercy...have mercy...".  
  
Harry opened his eyes, and looked at Voldemort. He was off the spell.  
  
Riddle glared. "Potter, I believe you are getting too relaxed with your surroundings. I believe we should get somewhere where there is a little bit more pressure on you".  
  
Voldemort, without warning, yelled out, "Portintraniversa!".  
  
Harry was suddenly in a vast expanse with no light.  
  
He could glimpse out shadows of bodies, on the walls that suddenly had a soft, uninviting glow to it, covered with shadows of bodies screaming, yelling, being chained, being whipped, being attacked, attacked by the worse pain known to humanity, or, rather, inhumanity.  
  
And he knew who they all were.  
  
"Repetio!", he heard. An icy hand snaked it's way around his heart.  
  
He could vaguely see a dark shadow, passing, a shadow that was slowly blurring, then sharpening, showing the firm details, the white, pale face, the long black hair...  
  
This was his own godfather...Sirius...torturing innocent people? It was almost too hard to believe.  
  
But seeing is believing.  
  
He could see the silhouette of someone, later blurring up then clearing, fur growing out of his back, teeth elongating from his small mouth, knees switching backwards, back bending, ears twisting, twisting to the side of his head...  
  
Remus Lupin.  
  
"Padfoot!", Harry heard Remus cry, as he was put through the process again.  
  
The Repetition Curse was repeating his cruel fate, over and over again, making him face it more than he could.  
  
Harry squeezed his eyes tightly.  
  
Then he saw Hermione's petite figure, bushy brown hair marking in his mind as it was being held, being dragged through-out the area. He could see a taller figure, one with sleek hair...blonde...  
  
He could hear Draco laugh crazily as he heard him shout out "Electrifucio!".  
  
Harry heard Hermione's screaming mingle in with his own as she was filled with an immense blue light...electricity...  
  
He heard her screaming for a few minutes...then...silence...  
  
Hermione had been electrocuted to death.  
  
"Hermione", he whispered, letting out a rattling, shattered breath.  
  
Then he heard a deeper sounded screaming, identical to each other, Aurors.  
  
He spotted two identical sets of flaming red hair.  
  
More likely, Fred and George Weasely.  
  
"Fred! George!", he yelled, his voice echoing, despite the amount of screaming heard.  
  
"Come on, Harry!", he heard Fred yell.  
  
"Finish him!", he heard George scream.  
  
Then they were silent.  
  
Harry willed for it all to be a dream...an illusion...  
  
But this was a reality.  
  
Harry closed his eyes and swiftly shook his head rapidly.  
  
Please don't show me more...please...  
  
He heard a sharp, high-pitched from a sixteen-year old he knew. The sister of his deceased friend.  
  
The shadow highlighted to the silhouette of Ginny Weasely.  
  
Ginny was being hung from chains, not knowing exactly what to expect. Harry couldn't see her light-brown eyes widening as she heard two male voices, coming from two adult bodies, bodies Harry remembered...  
  
Bill and Charlie Weasely.  
  
"Bill, Charlie", he heard her choke out, with a raspy and croaky voice.  
  
"Don't worry, Gin", Harry heard the figure with long hair say. "We're going to bust you out of this prison".  
  
"Guys...did you hear? Fred and George are...gone...and so is Ron...Percy doesn't even have a mind anymore...".  
  
For a moment Harry heard nothing, saw the three bodies stay still. Suddenly, the stouter one lifted up his head.  
  
"We have to get you out of here", was all Charlie said.  
  
Then Harry saw two long, cloaked figures. They reached behind the two boys, them unsuspecting. Ginny saw it, though.  
  
"Bill, Charlie! Dementors!", she screamed.  
  
The boys swiftly turned around, and whipped their wands towards the dark figures.  
  
They closed their eyes, and Harry knew they were concentrating. Concentrating to find a happy thought, a good thought, one at all, somewhere in their hearts... But these were hard times. Very little hope was left, and the numbers on the Dark side were increasing rapidly. The numbers of deaths were increasing even more...  
  
They grasped onto the littlest hope they remembered, which was barely anything at all...  
  
"Expecto Patronum!", they cried. The dementors continued walking towards them.  
  
They looked even deeper, searched harder...  
  
"Harry!", Ginny screamed. "Harry!".  
  
Harry swallowed hard.  
  
"Think of Harry! He's going to kill Voldemort, remember?".  
  
The two boys looked slowly at their younger sister, and smiled the first real smile in a month.  
  
"Expecto Patronum!", they yelled, and two figures speeded out of their wands. Bill's, a sphinx, and Charlie's, a dragon.  
  
The two, somehow opposites, charged to the dementors and scared them away.  
  
Ginny sighed, serene and relieved smile washing her tired and worn features.  
  
But, they didn't see the other two dementors. The ones who were in Voldemort's Inner Circle, and were therefore given the power of Invisibility. They didn't need to have it there, really, but it was time to feed.  
  
Harry saw the two dementors, an extra ability in the curse.  
  
And he was terrified. He tried to call out to them, "Bill! Charlie! Ginny! Lookout! Dementors!".  
  
But, he screamed to no avail.  
  
Harry wouldn't give up. "Please! Behind you! Run! RUN!".  
  
"PLEASE! Look OUT!".  
  
"Run", Harry sobbed, as the first dementor swiftly whisked around Bill, removing the charm concealing itself. The dementor lifted off its hood, and Harry saw something he had only seen once in his life before, something he didn't expect to see, even worse than the kiss.  
  
The dementor was butt ugly, as usual. But this one was different. This one had a long sheet of something behind it's back. Harry could tell that it was glittering, silvery-blonde hair.  
  
Fleur.  
  
It would've looked somehow partially comical; to see a dementor with a beautiful sheet of silvery hair, but now, it was just plain sick...  
  
She was about to do something she would regret...if she had a mind...  
  
Bill looked astonished, he knew that Fleur had been captured by the dementors, but he didn't know that she had become one of them...  
  
It was a dreadful curse. Fleur was one among a thousand to have been destroyed with it...  
  
Harry knew that this would be even harder on Bill, because he and Fleur had become very good friends...  
  
Harry shuddered. If he had to see his own best friends suck away his soul...he...he wouldn't be able to bear it...  
  
'But I don't have to worry about that, on account of that my best friends are dead', he thought bitterly.  
  
She clasped onto Bill's face, and without him being able to scream, delivered the Kiss.  
  
"BILL!", Harry, Ginny, and Charlie yelled.  
  
Tears were streaming down Harry's face. "Bill...".  
  
Bill was still standing in the position he was in earlier, but he just stood there. He had a blank expression an his face it was as though, he just wasn't there anymore. He was gone. Charlie glared at the dementor, who seemed to be rising, gaining strength from the energy it had sucked in.  
  
He abruptly yelled out, "Expecto Patronum!", but the Patronus didn't appear. His anger had destroyed any hope he had...  
  
The second dementor, eager for a feed, charged to Charlie and took a hold of him.  
  
Harry had not seen the actual Kiss, or the face when Bill had been taken.  
  
This couldn't be much worse.  
  
He didn't see the face of the dementor, but saw the shadow of it as it pulled the hood off its head, he noticed how much lighter the area the sockets of the eyes were, due to there being no eyeballs, just skin stretched across the bone, and he saw the large hole in the shadow of the dementor, the mouth. The mouth that would destroy Charlie's soul.  
  
The dementor swiftly grabbed the boy, grabbed his yelling face, and took away the spirit of Charlie Weasely.  
  
Charlie turned to Ginny, and had a blank face.  
  
Harry could tell he was gone because he no longer carried himself alertly, or not the casual way the Charlie used to, a few years ago. He was just standing there, limply. Same with Bill.  
  
It hurt Harry to see that. It hurt him greatly.  
  
Then, another dementor appeared, this one not invisible. Harry heard a shrill, nonstop screaming, producting from Ginny's mouth, as the dementor grabbed hold of her. Then...silence.  
  
Ginny Weasely had left the world of consciousness.  
  
Harry screamed.  
  
He screamed till his throat was dry.  
  
Slowly, softly, the noise in the air shut down, and they were back in the room in which Lily Potter died.  
  
Harry's green eyes rapidly opened, tears full.  
  
"You will pay for that, Voldemort", he said haggardly.  
  
"Damantir!", he whispered.  
  
Voldemort shook slightly, then smiled evilly.  
  
"You can't make ME afraid, Potter", he laughed. "I have NO fears!".  
  
"Yeah, right", Harry smiled.  
  
Suddenly, quickly, Voldemort began crying out in rage.  
  
The world around Harry gently blurred away, and he was brought into another scenario, Voldemort crying out, apparently not aware of the actual Harry.  
  
Harry braced himself for Voldemort's fear- he knew t must be something awful, more awful than the Dark Lord himself, if he were to be afraid of it.  
  
When the picture cleared up, Harry blinked.  
  
He rubbed his eyes.  
  
He was in the same room as before.  
  
Harry began to panic, but evidently saw that Voldemort was standing in front of him, looking as scared as ever, glaring fearfully at someone behind Harry.  
  
Harry knew that he himself had no reason to be afraid: this was a curse on Voldemort, that he would have to face what he was most afraid of, therefore, it shouldn't effect Harry himself, as he really didn't 'exist' in this illusion.  
  
Harry spun around, but nearly fell down.  
  
Behind him was...  
  
...  
  
...  
  
...him.  
  
Indeed, it was Harry Potter, and he looked exactly the same as our Harry over here.  
  
'Voldemort's afraid of...afraid of...me?!', Harry thought, shocked.  
  
"Hello, Voldemort", Harry (the other one) said gleefully.  
  
Voldemort glared back menacingly. "Hello, Potter".  
  
"This is your last moment, Voldemort", Harry said.  
  
"Anything you wish to say?", Harry said imploringly.  
  
"Yes", Voldemort said softly. "I wish to say that I only regret that I couldn't kill you sooner".  
  
"How sweet", Harry said sneeringly. "Now, I will kill you. Without my mother's help. This time, Voldemort, I will succeed, and I will make sure you never harm or kill anyone, break apart families, destroy the world, ever again!".  
  
"And this time", he whispered dangerously, "I will do it, alone".  
  
"I will prove to you, that I am stronger than you, and that the light side will block out the Dark side. Are you ready?".  
  
Voldemort lifted his wand.  
  
"Avada Kedavra!", Harry cried, a fiery red light ejecting from his wand, piercing Voldemort, dropping him.  
  
Harry, both of them, saw amazingly, the Dark Lord, the one who had tortured innocents, the one who had killed many, the one who had caused friends to betray each other, the one who killed his own father, the one named Tom Marvolo Riddle, fall to the floor, slumping into the ground...  
  
Harry saw the vision blur, disappear, and he was facing Voldemort once again, staring disbelievingly.  
  
Harry simply stared at Voldemort.  
  
'Me? Afraid of me?'.  
  
Voldemort was wheezing. He was old, yet immensly powerful.  
  
'He's not afraid of just me', Harry thought, 'he's afraid of me defeating him...by myself'.  
  
Voldemort looked up, haunting, glowing, piercing red eyes penetrating Harry's green ones.  
  
'The only reason I defeated him the first time was because my mother sacrificed herself so I could live' .  
  
Please! Not Harry! Take me instead!  
  
No!  
  
Please, have mercy! Mercy!  
  
Move aside, you foolish girl...  
  
Harry opened his eyes. He made his decision. He was going to take down Voldemort, once and for all. By himself.  
  
Harry saw Voldemort falling, clutching his heart, coughing, spitting out blood.  
  
For the first time in his life, Harry pitied Voldemort.  
  
Voldemort had a terrible father, who abandoned his own wife for being a witch. Tom's mother died, and Tom Riddle never came to see him, and protect him. Voldemort was thrown into an orphanage, a bad one, in fact, where Muggles whipped him and hurt him mentally and physically. Tom was soon brought to Hogwarts, his only home.  
  
There, Tom chose to be a Slytherin, opened the Chamber of Secrets, and there, he met Salazar Slytherin, and became the Dark, yet great, wizard he was today.  
  
But, he had hurt so many innocent lives, so many people who did absolutely nothing to him, and it soon became an obsession, soon became his way of life, and soon, he became the feared wizard, the one whom people were afraid to call by his real name...  
  
The one named Voldemort.  
  
Harry snapped out of his thoughts and quickly directed himself towards Voldemort.  
  
He was slowly recovering, standing up, regaining his clever glint of red in his cold uninviting eyes.  
  
Voldemort stood up, and smiled. It was not friendly.  
  
"I believe, Potter, that it is time to get serious".  
  
"Avada Kedavra!", he yelled, focusing with all of the power he had embedded into him, red eyes brightening with an unnatural and eerie glow.  
  
The green light extracting from the yew wand was meeting its target, aiming, aiming for instant death.  
  
Harry had gone over this scene so many times while preparing, so many times, that it was almost impossible for him to not be able to do this.  
  
He would not run away this time.  
  
As soon as the words were uttered from his opponent's mouth, Harry focused mightily, green orbs flashing dangerously.  
  
He searched for his voice, which was oddly tight- he was nervous- and he yelled out the curse he was born to shout:  
  
"Expelliarmus!".  
  
*So...Read and Review!* 


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